Yesteryear
by Life on the Down Side
Summary: I like this story; I'm VERY proud of it. It's about Frodo in 1380, you know, before his parents died. The second chapter is coming as fast as I can type so, hold on til then!


(Author's note: I find Brandy hall to look like... half under ground and half above, halls leading off to separate homes, and such. Like... an apartment complex of sort; a city.  
Please review. I'm proud of this story!)  
  
  
  
Yesteryear  
  
  
The year is 1380.  
  
  
  
Young hobbits ran along the Brandywine, laughing, shouting. Among them, near the very front of the group, was 12-year old Frodo Baggins. This, my friends, is where we begin...  
"Frodo! Frodo, wait up!" Hollered young Donred Grubb as he straggled in the middle of the group.  
Frodo stopped, along with two others, but the rest of the children ran on past them.  
"What is it?" said Frodo, peering curiously at the younger hobbit as he caught up to the group, doubling over in gasps for breath.  
"Everyone's getting ahead of us. We have no chance of winning now." moaned Rory Burrow, watching the others speed hopelessly ahead. Rory was taller than Frodo, being he was three years older. Three years wasn't much to any hobbit, but it made him more superior than the other three hobbits standing with him.  
"We weren't going to win anyway!" remarked Violet Brockhouse. Violet was very unlike a normal hobbit-lass, being very much at home in tree-climbing and running. She was also a little older than Frodo, but only by but a year.  
"Says who?"  
"I-I couldn't keep up." Donred said defeatedly.  
"Says me!" Violet shot back.  
Frodo smiled at him, "Is that all? It's all right." He patted the younger hobbit on the shoulder, "We'll train you up! Starting first thing tomorrow."  
"Hate to ruin all of our fun, friends, but the sun is near setting," Rory pointed to the horizon as the sun dropped behind the trees, "And some of us have to catch the ferry across Brandywine. See you Frodo!"  
"Bye." Frodo said, now unsmiling as he watched the three young hobbits walk along the river to the ferry.   
He sighed, and mused to himself, "I had better get home myself, or else Mother will start worrying." He trekked up the slope, and back down the other side. Little did he know that Drogo Baggins was on the other side of the Brandywine, waiting for a ferry across. By then the sun was but a sliver.  
  
"I might still make it in time before dark. Then I wouldn't have any reason to get in more trouble!" He raced across the field, and finally made it inside Brandy Hall. He slowed down to fast walk, but the sound of his feet hitting the floor still resounded off the walls. Frodo winced, silently hoping that no one heard that.  
He heard a noise behind him and twisted around. Frodo had had experience with younger children trying to sneak up behind him. He peered incredulously into the dark, but still saw nothing.  
  
A firm hand clamped on his shoulder causing him to jump. The hand turned him around, "Ah, young Frodo, just returning?" asked the person by who still now grasped his shoulder. The hobbit was very much older than Frodo, very much. It was Asphodel, his mother's elder sister. Her brown hair had already begun to gray; her eyes were not the blue you would see with Baggins'(of which she was not) or Brandybuck. Her eyes were green like the summer leaves, from her Took relations.  
"Yes." said Frodo.  
"Saving everything to the last minute, eh?" said Asphodel, seeming to hold back a negative emotion.  
"What do you mean?"  
"I mean being out till nearly past dark, you silly child!" She said, taking up her grip on his shoulder again, and walking him the rest of the short hall under the hill, "You haven't a clue of what comes out past dark, boy!"  
"I'm sorry..." Said Frodo. But Asphodel wasn't listening.  
"It isn't pleasant, child, all those... those things! Goblins on wolves, straight out of the stories!"  
"I won't do it again, I promise." Said Frodo, now trying to pull out of her grip.  
"Dear sister, I hope you aren't scaring the boy!" A female voice said from up ahead.  
Asphodel scoffed, "If he has that much Baggins blood to be scared of words, even if they are true, I hope I did."  
They stopped in front of the woman, whom Frodo immediately recognized.  
"You don't mean to speak ill of Bagginses?" Said the lady hobbit, her eyes flashing.  
"Oh, Primula, but I do!" She released Frodo's shoulder, to put her hands on her hips, "Bad trouble you have gotten yourself into wedding a Baggins-"  
"That shall be enough, Asphodel!" said Primula calmly, taking her son, Frodo, by the hand, "I shall see you when I see you. Come, Frodo." With that she lead Frodo off and into one of the hobbit holes.  
Frodo looked up at her, "Do goblins on wolves really come out after dark, Mother?"  
"Oh, no, no," Primula chuckled, "Nothing so awful as that, Frodo dear."   
"But if Aunt Asphodel was wrong, what then?"  
She shook her head, "Many things. Most that will hurt you; that is why you must be home before dark." She bent down to come down to her son's eye level, "Is that clear?"  
"Yes, ma'am."  
She straighten, a pleasant smile playing on her face, "Good. Now you go get cleaned up for supper." She walked over to the stove.  
Frodo stood on his tip toes to try and see what was in the pot.  
Primula saw this, "Well, go on!" Frodo scrambled to the wash room.  
The door to the hobbit hold opened, and then closed again.  
"Primula? Frodo?" a voice called from the front room.  
"In here!" Primula called as Frodo walked back down from the hall.  
He grinned, "Dad!" Frodo ran to him and Drogo lifted him up high and then back down to sit on his left hip,   
"Frodo-lad! I hope you've behaved while I've been gone." He had been down to Hobbiton to visit family. He had claimed Frodo to be too young to travel so far, and Primula hadn't wished to leave the boy, so he had gone alone for about two days.  
"I have." Said Frodo proudly.  
"Oh, have you, now?" Drogo grinned, messing up his son's hair.  
"Hum, hum, get cleaned up, supper's ready." Primula said, reaching up into the cabinets.  
"I have already!" said Frodo.  
"All right then, but Daddy hasn't." Primula said looking pointedly over her shoulder at Drogo.  
He sat Frodo down to his own feet, "I'm going. Frodo-lad, help your mother with the table?"  
"I could use help." Said Primula, coming down off her stool holding dishes. She glanced at Drogo.  
"I'm going, I'm going." With that he walked off down the hall.  
Primula smiled, "Frodo, these plates are very heavy, but I bet you could carry them for me though, couldn't you?"  
Frodo rushed forward and slowly took the plates from his mother; they were a little heavier than he had thought.  
"Ho! Can you manage, deary?" Primula laughed.  
"Of course I can!" said Frodo stubbornly, setting them on the table, he put a plate in front of each of the chairs, along with the utensils.  
"I couldn't have down better myself." Said a voice in the doorway.  
Frodo grinned, "Yes, you could have."  
Drogo laughed, "Maybe, maybe."  
Primula grabbed two pot-holders and lifted the pot off of the burner, pouring it into three bowls, and taking the freshly made bread from the counter. She laid the breadbasket in the center of the small circle table, along with the rest of the food.  
  
(Sorry, I don't do dinner shows :P! *grin* I had to, I had to say it---- Now, I REALLY like this story, so could all of you review, please? Tell me what you think!!) 


End file.
